


Two Sides of a Conversation

by amerasu1013 (amerasu_1013)



Series: Forks in the Road [1]
Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerasu_1013/pseuds/amerasu1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Face thinks they are just friends. Hannibal wants more than that, but oh, he knows he can never have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One: Face

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the A-Team kink meme: "Having one of those days... So, dear meme, can I get some one-sided Hannibal/Face? One of the boys fantasizing about the other, knowing he can never have him... that sort of thing? Pretty please?"

Face opens the bathroom door and peers inside. Hannibal’s still in there, standing in front of the mirror, shaving cream on half his face. He snickers quietly, boss looks like the Phantom of the Opera like that. He closes the door behind him with a greeting and starts to undress. He can’t wait until Hannibal’s finished, he’s got places to be and women, err, things to do. Plus they’ve all shared bathrooms lots of times before, so it’s not really a problem or anything.

Face opens the shower’s door. It’s still all warm and foggy in here and it smells… Face sniffs. Smells familiar, like Hannibal. Comfortable. Nice. He turns on the water and starts washing.

Over the sound of the water he hears a faint sigh. Is the boss alright? He was looking a bit tired earlier. Frustrated. Worn down from their latest job, maybe? Nah, that was a cake-walk. Maybe he’s getting old? Nah. Hannibal will never get old; he’ll always be there, with him. Some other kind of frustration then? The boss hasn’t had any action in quite some time, has he? Face tries to remember the last time he saw Hannibal leave with a woman. That cute redhead from Boston? No, that was over six months ago. God, has it really been that long? Hannibal seriously needs to get laid. Maybe Face should help him? Wait. Didn’t Ellie tell him about this friend of hers? Who just got dumped and feels lonely? Maybe he can push this friend in the boss’ direction… now there’s a thought.

“Hey boss? So I met this woman earlier, Ellie. She wants to meet for drinks in the bar in about half an hour, apparently she doesn’t know anybody here yet…”

“And you graciously offered your company, of course.”

Face chuckles and lathers his privates. Clean body, clean soul. Well, and dirty mind… Ellie sure looked like she has quite an appetite. And those lips… “I’m a gentleman, what can I say…”

“Right.” Hannibal sounds bitter. Probably jealous. No problem, Face will totally fix him up with a date. Least he can do.

“And she has this friend, you know? So, how about you come with me and we’ll ease the ladies’ loneliness together? Ellie said she’s really nice and all…”

“No.”

“Come on! Why not? You never go out with me anymore! Are you still upset about the thing with the twins? I swear, I thought she was into you, I was very surprised when they both went for me…”

“I said no, kid.”

And now Hannibal sounds angry. Well, damn. Face isn’t ready to back down, the boss deserves some relaxing, he’s been pushing himself to the limit lately. BA and Murdock noticed, too. He doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t eat, drinks way too much and always mopes around. But Face will fix that, he’ll…

… or maybe he’ll just shut up. Because when he’s opened the shower door, he finds the boss directing his fiercest glare at him. Eep.

“Okay, okay, got it. Jesus, sorry, I only wanted to help.”

“Stop it.”

“Whatever. Hey, can I use your aftershave? It smells really great.”

Hannibal sighs and starts drying his cheeks. Face decides to take that as agreement and picks up the bottle. The boss is taking up a lot of room in front of the mirror and he has to kinda press up against him to be able to look into it. Hannibal shudders and Face pulls back apologetically. “Sorry, I’m still all wet.”

Hannibal sighs again. He’s been doing that a lot lately, too. Probably really tired. And tense, he notices when he brushes against a hard shoulder.

“Hey, do you want a massage before I leave? Those are some serious knots you got there, boss…”

Hannibal twists out from under Face’s hands and takes several steps back. “No, I’m… I’m fine.”

Face shrugs, a bit offended. “Just trying to take care of you.”

In the mirror he can see Hannibal’s eyes soften. The boss rests a gentle hand on his neck. “I know, kid. Thanks.”

Face beams at him. “No problem. Maybe tomorrow, then? I got this sweet oil, perfect for relaxing all kinds of tension…”

Hannibal gives him a little smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

He watches Face style his hair for a moment, then sighs again and turns away. “Have fun tonight, kid. Don’t get into trouble.”

Face grins. “Oh, I’m rather looking forward to a certain kind of trouble. Ellie’s room has a hot tub, you know. But fun, yeah, I’ll definitely have fun tonight!”

Hannibal gives him another smile before he leaves the bathroom. It’s… almost wistful, and Face vows to get him a lady soon. Hannibal really needs to cheer up.

And now… what to wear?


	2. Hannibal's Side

The door is yanked open, slams into the wall and a sudden rush of cold air and a cheerful “Hey boss!” announces Face’s arrival. Hannibal startles at the sudden noise – can’t he knock? – and rolls his eyes. Jesus, can’t he wait till the bathroom’s free? Damn kid has no respect for privacy.

… clearly visible by the fact that face is starting to take his clothes off. Hannibal yanks his eyes away from a tightly muscled chest and grits his teeth. No, he’s not going there. He focuses on shaving. He doesn’t look, won’t look, won’t let himself. He can’t.

Shirt, pants, socks and underwear hit the floor and Hannibal grinds his teeth so hard his jaw pops. He looks over, just once, just a brief glance. He can’t help himself. Face is oblivious, bends over to pick his clothes up and deposit them on the closed toilet, ass pointed directly at him.

The blade slips and nicks his skin. Hannibal flinches and curses softly, just as Face steps into the shower. He dabs at the blood and tries to ignore the figure behind him, visible trough the frosted glass. Tries to ignore the soft humming, the slick sounds of hands gliding over wet skin. He imagines soap suds running along a smooth chest, trailing down a hard stomach, further down towards… he cuts himself again. His hands are shaking. Fuck.

He closes his eyes.

 _Face opens the shower door and tilts his head with a smile. “Boss, why don’t you join me? Room enough for two…”_

Hannibal looks at himself in the mirror. Tired eyes, dark bags underneath them. Those lines at the edge of his mouth, they weren’t there six months ago. When they were still in the army, when he hadn’t dared to let himself hope. Because that’s all it is, isn’t it? Hope. Hope that maybe now that DADT doesn’t hang over their heads anymore, he might be able to… that Face could… that there was something between them. But now they are out, they _could_ , if they wanted, but still… There is nothing. Face isn’t… he doesn’t see it. How Hannibal looks at him, how he reaches out to touch, just a little. How he wants, how much he needs. Needs Face. But the kid… he doesn’t see it. Doesn’t see _him_. Only sees his women, all these women, never Hannibal. Never.

And still he hopes. That maybe one day the kid will realize. Hannibal grimaces. It’s useless, futile. Face will never see him as that. Last week, when they both were drunk, Face rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder and let him hold him. Whispered he loved him, wiped away secret tears, and Hannibal’s heart was pounding so loud he almost didn’t hear the kid say how much he’d always wanted a father like Hannibal. He’d sat there, shaking, throat tight, inside empty, empty. Face hadn’t noticed, fell asleep curled against him. Hannibal had shivered with every soft exhale against his neck and continued to drink until he passed out.

But still he hopes. And it has turned him into this. This old man staring back at him from the mirror. Face is singing under the shower behind him, and Hannibal hopes. He’s getting old, his life is running out of him, like his blood does from where he cut himself… but still he hopes. Wishes, wants. _Hopes_.

He sighs and rips off tiny pieces of toilet paper to stem the blood flow. Good thing this hotel keeps their rooms well-stocked with liquor, he’s gonna need it later. Maybe he and the others can stay in and watch a movie. Murdock’s been going on a lot about this new movie about a runaway train…

“Hey boss? So I met this woman earlier, Ellie. She wants to meet for drinks in the bar in about half an hour, apparently she doesn’t know anybody here yet…”

Great. Of course the kid already has plans. In the hotel for barely more than two hours and already he’s hooking up with someone… Hannibal sighs. Just great. “And you graciously offered your company, of course.”

Hannibal runs the razor carefully across his cheek and ignores the throaty laugh. A quick glance shows him slightly blurry hands reaching between equally blurry legs. Hannibal yanks the razor from his skin before he cuts himself again and counts to five. Thank God the shower glass is frosted.

“I’m a gentleman, what can I say…”

Hannibal snorts. “Right.” He hates him a bit at that moment, hates him and that woman. And himself, for being like this. For not being able to stop hoping. Wanting what he can’t have. For all of this.

“And she has this friend, you know? So, how about you come with me and we’ll ease the ladies’ loneliness together? Ellie said she’s really nice and all…”

Oh hell no. No fucking way. No way in fucking hell.

“Come on! Why not? You never go out with me anymore! Are you still upset about the thing with the twins? I swear, I thought she was into you, I was very surprised when they both went for me…”

Face actually sounds hurt. Hannibal resists the urge to bang his head against the mirror. Jesus, kid, just stop. Bad enough I have to think about you with that… with her, now you want me to watch it, too?

“I said no, kid.”

The shower door opens. Oh God. All that skin, flushed pink from the warm shower, wet and gleaming, little droplets running along his torso, body glinting in the light, so close, so warm and wet and inviting. He wants to reach out, wants to touch, wants to hold Face and kiss and caress him, wants to love… He can’t. He mustn’t. But God, how he wants.

Hannibal swallows and schools his face into a scowl.

“Okay, okay, got it. Jesus, sorry, I only wanted to help.”

Stop it, kid, please. Stop trying to help, you’re not helping, you’re making it _worse_. I can’t take much more, please just be quiet.

“Whatever. Hey, can I use your aftershave? It smells really great.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and grabs it from the shelf. Hannibal presses his lips tightly together and ignores the sudden rush of heat. Face, wearing his aftershave. Wearing his smell… God, he needs to get out of here. Hannibal decides his shave is finished right about now and picks up a towel. Who cares if there’s still stubble left. It’s not like anybody would notice. Jesus, get a grip, old man.

Face opens the aftershave bottle and sniffs it appreciatively. His mouth curls into a smile and Hannibal wants to kiss him. He steps closer to the mirror and Hannibal wants to touch him. He presses up against him and Hannibal wants to shove him against the wall and make him see reason.

 _Face’s back hits the tiles and his eyes widen, mouth forming a surprised ‘O’. “What are you doing, boss?” he asks nervously, and Hannibal moves closer. He wraps tight arms around his boy and leans in to whisper in his ear: “What I should have been doing a long time ago.” A pulse flutters wildly under the delicate skin at Face’s neck, and when Hannibal clamps his mouth over that sweet spot, the kid moans shivers and brokenly, arms coming up to clutch at him._

Face must have felt his shudder, because he pulls back with a guilty expression. “Sorry, I’m still all wet.”

Hannibal sighs again. He curses himself, his overactive imagination, and the kid’s penchant for letting his body dry naturally. Towels are bad for his skin he says. They’d certainly be better for Hannibal’s peace of mind. God, he wants to touch so badly…

Suddenly there are hands on his shoulder, on _him_ , cool against his flushed skin. “Hey, do you want a massage before I leave? Those are some serious knots you got there, boss…”

He frees himself as quickly as possible. Don’t touch me, kid, not right now, not like that. “No, I’m… I’m fine.” His voice sounds rough and he prays Face hasn’t noticed how he just leaned into the touch, just a little. He _can’t_ , goddammit.

“Just trying to take care of you.” The kid looks hurt. Damn, he didn’t mean to…

And Hannibal can’t do anything but lay a hand on the kid’s neck. “I know, kid. Thanks.”

Face beams at him, instantly mollified. Hannibal feels warmth spread through his stomach at the sight.

“No problem. Maybe tomorrow, then? I got this sweet oil, perfect for relaxing all kinds of tension…”

“Yeah, maybe.” He doesn’t have the heart to tell the kid an outright no. Face means well, said he wants to take care of him, but Hannibal can’t let him. A massage is probably the worst thing that could happen, there’s no way Face wouldn’t notice that… no, massages are not a good idea, however much he might like the image.

The kid’s agile fingers run through his hair, tugging it this way and that. Hannibal watches, mesmerized. A tongue pokes out in concentration, and Hannibal feels need course through him so hard he almost stumbles. Those fingers on him, kneading his tense shoulders… Face’s back and shoulder muscles shift with every move, there’s the faint scar of the tattoo he got removed when he was 23, there’s that bullet wound from when Hannibal thought he’d lost him, there’s the birthmark that looks a bit like a rose…

Hannibal knows this body. He knows this man, as well as he knows himself, knows all the quirks and weird habits. Knows it all and still wants to know more, wants everything. Wants that smile, and the way his eyes crinkle when he’s happy, wants to hold him when he has a nightmare. Wants to share the last pancake and get a kiss in thanks, wants whispered conversations under the safety of their blankets, cuddled close together, wants lazy mornings and sweaty nights, wants him, wants Face, the kid, his boy. Wants so much.

But he can’t.

And he knows what’s expected from him at this point. Be the colonel, be the boss, be the goddamn father figure. “Have fun tonight, kid. Don’t get into trouble.”

 _Face tilts his head at him. “What do you mean? Am I in trouble? You know I only got eyes for you, don’t you, boss? It was only a bit of flirting, nothing more, I swear.” He bites his lips in mock-nervousness and hides a grin. Hannibal grumbles exaggeratedly and yanks his boy closer. “Oh, I saw that flirting, all right. And I think I have to remind you again of who you belong to, don’t I, boy?” Face laughs when Hannibal throws him onto the bed. He bounces off the mattress a bit and smiles at him. “Come here and kiss me, boss…” he murmurs and opens his arms. And Hannibal does just that._

Face grins. “Oh, I’m rather looking forward to a certain kind of trouble. Ellie’s room has a hot tub, you know. But fun, yeah, I’ll definitely have fun tonight!”

Face turns back to his hair, expectant grin firmly in place. Hannibal manages a last smile before he flees. Outside he has to lean against the wall for a moment. His throat is tight and his fingers clenched. He can do this, he can continue to ignore this. Face deserves to be happy, and if he’s happy without Hannibal, so be it. He can deal.

He can deal.

 

The end…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naturally, I couldn't leave the readers with this sad ending, voices were raised demanding I fix this. Of course, I obliged... In a way.  
> I wrote three alternate endings, two very sad ones and a third, happy one.  
> So, go ahead and pick your poison, or read all three, if you want. BUT be warned: the first two endings are NOT HAPPY. The first one involves major character death and all kinds of bad things. The second one is less horrible, but still sad/wistful.  
> The third one, while again being angsty at first, is the "real" ending, the happy ending.  
> Please check each ending for additional warnings/author's notes as well.


End file.
